A lover's embrace?

((Setting is somewhere within the Plaguelands,Kester is a Scourge Death knight,Midane is a scarlet crusader))

Wet leaves squelched under Midane’s boots as she darted through the rotted trees of the Plaguelands and leapt over fallen branches, her breathing labored, her chest burning. She couldn’t keep up this chase forever, but if she could reach the mouth of the forest she might be able to find help. There was a road not far ahead, or so she remembered, and their—her—home was not far down that road. She had to reach it, had to warn the others.

Behind her, Kester was closing the distance.

Midane kept running, even though her armor felt heavier on her body with every step. Kester’s echoing laughter rang in her ears, loud enough that she thought he had caught her. Inhaling sharply, she forced herself into another sprint. The trees were thinning; she was nearly to the road.

Midane tried to close herself off from the pain screaming in her muscles; her throat was dry and her skin was bright with sweat. She choked on her breath and stumbled, thinking ‘No’ as the forest floor rushed to meet the arc of her falling body.

“Don’t worry,” Kester murmured in her ear as his arm snaked around her waist and yanked her back up. “I’ve got you.”

“No,” she said, aiming for a scream but landing on a whisper. Kester held Midane’s body fast against his; his other arm crushed her throat. She struggled as best she could, but his armor-plated fingers raked across the delicate skin of her neck and belly, and she was disarmed from the pain. Blood trickled down her collarbone and hips, its warmth shocking against the evening winter wind, against the icy metal that covered Kester’s body and that now pressed, unwelcome, against her own. Her attempts to call on the Light failed—her arms were pinioned, and she could voice nothing more than strangled gasps.

Kester slammed her against a tree; she felt the built up moss and rot crumble under their combined weight. The soil beneath darkened with her blood.“You shall have power beyond your imagining,” Kester whispered. He strangled her tightly as a cold,icy blue gaze met hers. “All shall serve,this life...or next.”,His breathing was heavy,almost machine like...or was it even breathing?Midane no longer knew.Her thoughts were brought back to what exactly was occuring as her body was flooded with pain.His gaunlets had begun to tighten.

“This isn’t you,” Midane said. She thrashed beneath him, tried to wrench herself away, but he shoved his knee roughly between her legs. Her body curled and trembled as pain sang in her nerves.“I have never been anything else,” Kester said. “What you knew was an illusion. The person you are now is an illusion, as well.”.The scarred and rotted face stared into the Scarlet woman's face,a grim and unnerving smile appeared.Followed by a rush of blood throughout her body and the taste of iron within her mouth.Midane stared down to find a long,runeblade protuding from between her ribcage."A cold embace.The tender touch...Just for you.Sweetheart.".Kester murmered,as he stood there.Holding his limp wife by the throat and prying the cold blade from the remains...A loud crunch,filled the air of the Plaguelands.